


Burn

by Haleykim84 (tristen84)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Force-Feeding, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Keith (Voltron) Whump, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:33:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21563818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tristen84/pseuds/Haleykim84
Summary: Being part-Galra has its drawbacks.
Relationships: Hunk & Keith (Voltron)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 288





	Burn

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Bad Things Happen Bingo.

Keith pulled on the restraints pinning his wrists to the metal chair as the pirate captain circled him.

"I'm told you've been refusing to eat, boy," the captain spat, stopping in front of Keith. "What, you too good for our grub or somethin'?"

Keith pressed his lips together and shook his head. His stomach growled. He hadn't eaten anything in days.

It wasn't that he didn't _want_ to eat. He wasn't one to be picky about his food – one of his foster parents had beaten that out of him – and if he was ever going to escape from this damned pirate ship, he needed to keep his strength up. But there was just something about the food these pirates were giving him that was _off_. The smell alone made his stomach want to turn inside out. He'd managed to choke down a spoonful on one of the first days of his capture, and he was _still_ dealing with stomach cramps.

The pirate captain leaned into Keith's space, curling his fingers around Keith's jaw and tilting his head sideways. Keith suppressed a shiver as the man ran a clawed finger along his cheekbone. "This really won't do. Can't have you lookin' like a skeleton when we get to Sorkanti. We want to get a good price for you, boy. You're going to eat your damn grub whether you like it or not."

He wrapped his meaty hand in Keith's hair and yanked his head back. Keith winced as his neck popped.

There was the sound of a door opening and closing. Almost instantly Keith was overwhelmed by a horribly familiar smell; it was the food they'd been giving him and that made him want to throw up his insides.

"You eat when I tell you to eat," the man behind him said, with another yank on his hair.

A new hand gripped his chin, and that's when Keith began to struggle. He tried to jerk his head away, but the hand in his hair tightened to the point where it felt like the roots were about to be ripped from his scalp. Claws dug into the skin of his jaw, and Keith clenched his teeth so hard his molars hurt. A second hand joined the first, trying to work his jaw open. Keith pressed his lips together and leaned back as far as he could, but it wasn't enough to escape the prying hands. He squeezed his eyes shut against the sting of the claws piercing his skin, and was unprepared when another hand came down to cover the top half of his face, pinching his nose closed in the process. It helped with the smell, but now he couldn't _breathe_. Panic gripped him, and he thrashed in the bonds keeping him restrained to the seat. His lungs were already screaming for air, but he knew that if he opened his mouth even an inch to suck in a breath they'd use it to shove the food down his throat.

But he had no choice! His chest was heaving with the need to draw breath.

He held out for as long as he could, but eventually had to unclench his teeth and open his mouth to breathe. The hands on his face immediately seized the opportunity and worked his jaw open. Something hard crashed into his lips, clinking against his teeth, and his head was tilted back even further. Lukewarm gruel that tasted like vomit was shoveled into his mouth and the next thing he knew he was choking. Food dribbled down his chin as he gagged and coughed and frantically tried to swallow before he really did choke. He didn't even get a chance to chew before more was shoved past his lips. His stomach roiled and something awful was trying to climb back up his throat, burning his esophagus along the way, but he desperately tried to swallow it back down. His eyes watered and he struggled to breathe past the food blocking his throat.

He couldn't keep up. They were forcing food into his mouth faster than he could swallow. His heart was pounding, his stomach rolling and he was choking, _choking_ , but the hands on his face and in his hair didn't give an inch. Terror swept through him. If they kept this up they were going to kill him!

"Get your hands off him! Get your hands off him right now!"

The hands abruptly left his face, his hair was released, and Keith coughed up the gruel that was stuck halfway down his throat. He turned his head to the side to spit out as much of the crap as he could. Chest heaving with ragged gasps, he looked up to see Hunk standing in the doorway with his bayard raised and trained on the pirate captain. He looked fierce and livid and Keith had never been so happy to see him.

"Okay, now step away from my friend there. No funny stuff! That's right, back away. Keep your hands up!" Hunk ordered. "Pidge, in here! I've got Keith!" he called over his shoulder. "Keith! Keith, you okay, buddy?"

Keith's stomach hurt, and he hunched over as much as he could in his restraints. It felt like the gruel he'd been forced to swallow was trying to burn a hole through his stomach. There was a gurgling sound and then the burning sensation started crawling up his esophagus. Cold sweat broke out on his skin.

"Hunk…" he gasped. "Hunk…un-untie me. I gotta—"

There was a surge of nausea and he barely noticed Pidge skidding into the room as he gagged. He was vaguely aware of a sizzle of electricity behind him a moment later, but he was too busy trying not to vomit right then and there to register what it meant.

"Hunk…please…" he rasped, his breaths coming fast now. He pulled on his restraints, desperately trying to swallow down the bile that was now burning the back of his throat. His stomach felt like it was on fire – he almost expected it to burst into flames any second. He'd never felt anything like it – it was _terrifying_.

"Okay, okay, I got ya, buddy, I got ya. Are you okay?"

Hunk was in front of him now, working to get his wrists free, but Keith was writhing in his seat. God, it hurt so much!

Hunk wrinkled his nose. "Quiznak, what were they giving you?" he demanded, before making a gagging sound. "Man, that stuff smells like feet!"

Keith would've agreed if he wasn't busy gagging himself. He couldn't hold it back any longer. Hunk got his wrists free just in time for him to crumple forward onto his hands and knees and vomit all over the floor. A hand rubbed his back as his stomach spasmed painfully again and again, until tears were leaking from his eyes and he could barely hold himself up any more. By the time he was spent, he was gasping for breath and trembling all over. The smell of his own vomit reached him and it nearly started him puking all over again, but Hunk pulled him away just in time.

"Oh man, Keith, buddy, are you—oh holy quiznak!"

Keith sat back and blinked, his vision fuzzy, as he stared at his own vomit. It glistened a dark red. His throat, his stomach, even his lips and chin, where some of the vomit had spilled, felt like they'd been doused with acid. Panic thrummed in his ears when a fresh wave of nausea hit him. 

"Oh god, oh god, oh god," Hunk was muttering, but it sounded far away. Keith's heart was thundering in his ears, and he groaned when his stomach started spasming again.

Hands rushed to help him get back onto his knees and held him steady as he retched. It was agony, burning hot and never-ending. His muscles were contracting so badly he couldn't even pull in a breath, and he was terrified he would choke on his own vomit.

He desperately fought the darkness that was encroaching on the edges of his vision. But he couldn't hold off the black dots that were beginning to swirl in front of him, and he still couldn't _breathe_.

And then, everything went dark.  
  


oOo  
  


"Keith!" Hunk exclaimed, alarmed at how Keith went completely limp in his arms. He barely managed to haul Keith away before he face-planted into his own vomit. "Keith! C'mon man, don't do this to me!"

Pidge popped up beside him. "Hunk, what's going on?" She froze when she spotted the mess on the floor. "Oh my god, is that—is Keith puking _blood_?!"

Hunk carefully lowered Keith down onto his back. He was covered in blood and gunk, but underneath all of that his skin was ashen. Panic seized him. "Oh man, Pidge, we gotta take him back to the castle, like, yesterday and—"

"…hello? Castle to Hunk?"

A hand waved in front of his face.

Hunk blinked, and suddenly the familiar gray panels and white cabinets of the castle's kitchen materialized around him. He was standing at the kitchen counter, staring into a bowl of cookie batter. 

Oh.

The panic that had threatened to drown him a moment ago receded as his memories of the day before faded. 

"Hunk? You sleep-cooking or something?"

Hunk looked up to see Lance leaning against the counter beside him. Huh. He hadn't even noticed Lance come in. "Oh. Hey, Lance."

"What's the matter? You look like someone spit in your cookie dough or something." Lance studied him for a moment before his expression softened. "…You know Keith's gonna be okay, right?"

"Yeah, but… Man, I don't know. I just- I can't get over what they were doing to him. It's just not right!" He gave his spatula an aggressive twist. "That stuff they were forcing on him—it- it could've killed him! It literally ate his insides…he was vomiting blood, man!"

"Hey, Hunk, calm down, your spatula's gonna snap in two if you're gonna keep at it like that!" Lance said. He placed a hand on Hunk's shoulder. "I'm sorry you had to see that, man. I know it was awful… But Keith's gonna be fine. Just a few more hours in the pod and Mullet's gonna be back to his normal, cranky self."

Hunk sighed. "I hope so." He wasn't at all sure to be honest. It wasn't just about those space pirates force-feeding Keith stuff that was toxic to Galra – he knew Keith would be okay physically. But Keith had spent several days in the hands of those barbarians. There was no telling what else they'd done to him. What if he wasn't the same Keith? And—and what if they'd tried to force that crap on Keith sooner? He’d be dead right now.

"So what are you making?" Lance asked, distracting him from his spiraling thoughts.

"Oh. Uh…Tovarian sugar cookies. They're Keith's favorites. Gonna make some of that Carthesian lasagna he likes too, cos I don’t think he’s had anything decent and, you know, _non-toxic_ to eat since those pirates got their hands on him. And I mean, we've gotta put some weight back on him, like, seriously—”

“Hunk.”

“What?” Hunk said, frowning at the interruption.

“Want some help?”

Hunk looked over at Lance, and slowly the tension drained from his shoulders. “Yeah. Yeah, that’d be good.”  
  


oOo  
  


Hunk made it to the pod room just in time to see Shiro catch Keith as he stumbled from the cryopod he’d been in for the past eight vargas. He hurried forward, eager to find out for himself if Keith was okay.

Keith looked pale and chilled, but blood wasn’t bubbling from his lips anymore and he didn’t look like he was on the verge of puking out his insides again, so Hunk let out a whoop of relief.

“Keith! Man, I’m so glad you’re okay!”

The other paladins, who’d been gathered around Keith, automatically stepped back to make way for him. He threw his arms around Keith and squeezed, almost lifting him clean off his feet. He ignored Keith’s “oof!”, but noticed how Keith stiffened, bony elbows digging into his arms, and Hunk was reminded that they needed to get some food into him asap.

“Uh…hey…Hunk,” Keith muttered, giving him an awkward pat on the back.

Hunk released him, making sure he was steady on his feet before letting go. “Are you hungry? I mean, you probably haven’t had anything decent to eat in days, so you must be starving, right?”

Keith folded his arms. “I could eat.”

Hunk took that as an admission that Keith was in fact dying of hunger right now. “Great! To the kitchen!” He valiantly resisted the urge to grab Keith by the arm to drag him along. Instead, he bounced on the balls of his feet impatiently as he watched Shiro wrap an arm around Keith to help him forward the first few steps.

As they rounded the corner to the kitchen, the cooking smells wafted over them and Hunk watched Keith closely for his reaction. It was an absolute delight to see Keith’s eyes light up.

“That…actually smells really good.”

Hunk suppressed the urge to fist pump and gestured for Keith to take a seat at the table instead. He grabbed a plate, loaded it up with the Carthesian lasagna and set it in front of Keith with a flourish.

Keith glanced at him, eyebrows raised, before reaching for his spork.

Hunk watched intently and with baited breath as Keith brought the spork to his mouth and took a cautious bite. He didn’t know why he was so nervous, honestly. The lasagna was one of Keith’s favorite dishes, he knew that, but after what Keith had been through… What if he had issues with food now?

But he needn’t have worried.

After a second or two of chewing, Keith’s eyes widened. He swallowed, paused as if to see whether the food would stay down, and then practically inhaled the rest of it.

“Jeez, Mullet, don’t forget to _breathe_ ,” Lance commented.

Hunk threw his best friend a glare – _do not interrupt a guy when he’s eating, Lance_ – but Keith didn’t even seem to have heard him. After scraping the last drop of sauce from his plate, he looked up at Hunk and gave him one of his rare smiles. “Thanks, Hunk. That was…really good.”

Hunk beamed, and fetched the cookies from the kitchen counter. “There’s more!”

Keith’s eyes lit up once again. “You made sugar cookies? You- you didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course I didn’t have to, but I _wanted_ to! I know you like ‘em,” Hunk said with a grin. “Also, Lance helped.”

“Hunk! You weren’t supposed to tell him that!” Lance protested.

Keith stared at the cookies in front of him, and then glanced up at both Hunk and Lance almost shyly. “Thanks, guys.”

Hunk’s heart swelled, and his grin grew even wider. “Any time, dude, any time.”

\- End -

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt for this bingo fic was force-feeding. Thanks for the great prompt, Ladylienda!


End file.
